Lunar Chaos
by KissOfTheGrimm
Summary: Up until today Hermione had never wanted to change a thing, everything she had experienced made her the woman she was; but in this galaxy, feeling this messed up, she began to regret accepting her new position among the people of Atlantis. The magic was all wrong, too strong, the lunar pull too backwards and her gums ached almost every day. Had she really made the right choice?


First attempt at Nano andddddddd…..GO!

FYI – This is what I imagine Hermione's home to look like, but the stone wall continues around in a large square to meet the other side of the tower. Creates a large walled in garden area you know? r/ 5uiyky/ 8 (remove the spaces after the forward slash)

( I don't own this picture by the way, or the location.)

***************HP/SGA******************

_Cross Tower, Tote Forest, Island of Skye, December 2001_

With a sharp crack Hermione appeared in the dark night, barely missing a large pile of snow just outside the front gate. Adjusting her messenger bag she shivered and stepped through the gate, ignoring the icy feel of fingers on her skin as the wards scanned her. Weaving her way down the path to the front door she sighed, flicking her hand back and forth, tossing snow from the ancient cobblestones. She'd only have to do it again in the morning but anything to keep snow out of her pumps and her stockings dry for a few minutes longer. The heavy oak door opened without a sound and warmth enveloped her as she stepped inside the tower she called home.

It was an old tower outpost, once used for advanced warning of impending raids, by an old Scottish clan long dead and honestly she didn't care enough to remember their names; this was her home now. Maybe the old Hermione would have cared a bit more but these days, medical student Hermione didn't care about anything but her next cup of coffee, cat napping behind the nurses station and getting her field reports done on time. She was eight months from graduation and had already decided her actual residencies could wait; there were more important matters to attend to. If Hermione was honest, she didn't care about being a practicing doctor, even within the specialized genetics field, all she had attended medical school for was the knowledge to help others within the magical world.

Kicking off her shoes she left them by the door, flicking the security bar down over the door as she padded away. Thick plush carpet brushed along her feet as she passed through the living area and toward the stairs. The fire was already roaring in the fireplace, indicating someone had been by, most likely one of the Hogwarts house elves. Hermione had noticed small things like laundry being done, the icebox being stocked and a sandwich sitting out waiting for her months ago. She doubted it was Harry, he had been somewhere in Peru for the last year while Ron still had the emotional range of a teaspoon.

Mrs. Weasley wasn't exactly happy with Hermione these days because the witch had halted any attempts Molly made at matchmaking and Hermione had effectively fallen off Ginny's radar when the youngest redhead started as first line chaser for the Holyhead Harpies and attracted the attention of Oliver Wood. Hermione was sure they would announce an engagement or a baby any day so that left only one option; a Hogwarts house elf. Every time Hermione asked Headmistress McGonagall about it however, she played dumb and ignored her inquiries. Eventually Hermione gave in and stopped asking, she needed the help to make it through school and frankly she was glad someone was interested in her wellbeing. Besides, she couldn't keep buying new panties at the local boutique before her shifts at the hospital.

Scones on the inner stairwell wall caught fire as she wound her way up the tower stairs, and at one point she even stopped at one of the small windows, captivated by the moonlight bouncing off the snow. The stone was cool under her feet however, encouraging her to move once more. Reaching the small landing above the main living area she smiled tiredly at the wrapped plate of brownies in front of her bedroom door. Whichever house elf kept coming around knew what she liked, that's for sure. Stepping over the plate, silently promising to come back to it and devour at least half of the sweets, she pushed open her bedroom door and stepped inside. Dropping her bag inside the door she shucked her knee length wool coat, tossing it snowflakes and all into a heap near the end of the bed. She continued to disrobe all the way to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. White blouse, black pencil skirt and purple garters covered the floor. Stockings too came off but with a bit more care as they were harder to replace.

After a quick shower Hermione wandered her way back out and pulled yoga pants from her dresser along with a ratty black and burgundy Quidditch jersey that may or may not have belonged to Viktor Krum at some point (she'd admit that fact over her own dead body). Forgoing her bra she brushed out her hair before pinning it up with her wand. Momentarily she felt bad, her wand hadn't been used for much these past few weeks, with her new grasp on simple wandless magic and her expansive time in the muggle world. Running her fingers lightly over the shaft of wood she felt a tingle, old magic inside responding to her touch eagerly. She still needed and loved her wand, she would always need it and tonight the old girl would get a workout.

Slipping into her house shoes she snatched up the brownies and headed back downstairs. Veering off behind the stairs instead of back to the living room she headed into the kitchen, pulling milk from the icebox, setting it and the brownies on an old tray. Reaching back into the icebox she took stock of her already prepared options, pulling two turkey sandwiches and an apple. With a quiet incantation and a flick of her wand, a thrill went up her spine at the rush of magic and the tray simultaneously began to float off the counter. Leaving the kitchen she headed back toward the living room, the tray following behind like a well-trained dog.

Crookshanks snoozed in her favorite armchair, basking in front of the fire. His ears twitched as she walked by, an eye cracked open and he rolled lazily to his stomach when she paused.

"Are you coming?"

Crookshanks snorted but sniffed, gaze moving to the tray which carried her turkey sandwiches. Turning his gaze back to her he cocked his head and meowed almost questioningly.

"Yes, of course one is yours."

The answer seemed to satisfy the half kneazle and he stretched swiftly before hopping down from the chair and preceding her down the hall. Hermione smiled ruefully and followed the bob of his tail into her study. The fireplace inside was lit as well and Hermione settled onto the worn couch that was catty corner in front of it. Her desk was adjacent to the couch and faced the fireplace as well, a large bay window behind her leather wingback chair. Hermione and Crookshanks ate in a companionable silence, her gaze drifting to the empty portrait near the window. She hadn't seen Phineas Nigellus in a few days but then again the man wasn't really interested in her, he was interested in her research. His portrait resided in her office because Headmistress McGonagall had requested it and Harry didn't care, he was in Peru. No doubt when she headed into her lab the old headmaster would appear shortly after, he had impeccable timing.

Hermione spent a few more minutes petting Crookshanks, before sending the dishes back across the stone keep and into the basin sink. Pulling an afghan off the back of the couch she piled it around the half kneazle before standing and heading over to her bookshelf. Grabbing her favorite sweater from the hook nearby, she slipped it on and grasped an old textbook on astronomy, pulling the tome from its spot on the shelf. Setting the book down on her desk Hermione came back to the bookshelf just as it finished pulling away from the wall, exposing a set of stairs similar to the others but these inevitably led down, not up.

"I'll be back Crooks."

Heading down the stairs scones lit up as they had before in the other stairwell only this time there were no windows. The air was crisp and cool, and her steps echoed softly the deeper she went. Finally the stairs opened up into a tunnel and Hermione entered her workroom shortly after, the basement cavern bigger than a visitor may have expected. Two fireplaces dotted the far wall, one already lit and the other dark. Cauldrons had been cleaned recently and were sat back in their storage cupboard, shelves dotted the walls filled with books and ingredients. The more sensitive potions ingredients were kept in another cupboard similar to Professor Snape's. Long stone tables had been scrubbed, mixing wands and other utensils gleamed in the light from the fireplace on each.

A nearby desk sat covered in books and parchment, some of the papers merely scraps and one was actually an admittance form for the hospital Hermione had scribbled on when she had thought of something a few weeks back. Waving her wand a large brass cauldron floated toward the nearest work bench and books gravitated from her desk, leaving Hermione to retrieve ingredients from her stores. Turning away from her other stores Hermione headed to the far wall near the tunnel opening, and winced at the squeak the closet door made. Walking inside she cast a quick _Lumos a_nd as her eyes adjusted Hermione found herself facing the bars of a quite fancy cage, but a cage all the same.

Inside was a comfortably decorated full size bed she'd replaced more than once, a bedside table that was bound to be next and a small desk covered in books. A small bathroom took up a corner of the cell, holding an even smaller shower, a sink and a toilet. Shaking her head she turned away and scanned the shelves opposite the cell. Grabbing the last batch of inhibitor labeled twenty-six she headed back to her cauldron. Twenty-six was almost ready, very close. It had to be tweaked and it didn't have the right length of potency but she was getting closer. The problem was she needed another test subject, another volunteer. Frankly the werewolves had begun to lose faith in her project and were reluctant to hear her out anymore. If the smartest witch of their age couldn't fix them, they were screwed. Best to move on with life as they had been before.

One wolf hadn't lost hope yet however, but then again he was too young to know there may have even been hope. Young Edward Remus Lupin was almost four years old, would be come April. Shortly after his birth he had begun showing signs, ticks if you will around the full moon. Shortly after he turned one, he had experienced his first physical change. It wasn't nearly as severe as his father's but the feral nature and outright loss of self was there. The change was hard on his small body and everyone agreed he was too young for Wolfsbane, the potion would do him more harm than good at this point. So every full moon he was locked up with pillows and blankets and snacks, toys and books. Every morning he was found in a mess of feathers, paper and broken toy wizards. Dutifully Andromeda repaired her grandson's toys and replaced them if need be, not caring how much gold she spent on him. Until he was old enough to understand there was no need to burden him, to make him unhappy. It a cure wasn't found, others would soon do it for them.

Hermione was determined to find that cure but didn't think she would find it right off the bat so instead she was starting small, creating something to inhibit the effects of the change and maybe even prevent it until the next moon cycle. She was however, running out of volunteers but had in mind someone who might just help her out.

Pulling the apple out of her pocket Hermione lit the burner under her cauldron, the one meant for the base of twenty-six before summoning another and setting it inside the cold fireplace, one that wouldn't be cold for long.


End file.
